


Requiem for a Crow

by ColdStarsAndStones



Category: Persona 5
Genre: Gen, Grief/Mourning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-22
Updated: 2017-09-22
Packaged: 2019-01-04 04:55:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 841
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12161961
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ColdStarsAndStones/pseuds/ColdStarsAndStones
Summary: The dawn breaks and light spills over the city.It sets alight the eight of them and still they bow, for its what He deserved.





	Requiem for a Crow

They head out at night, in the dark, in their element. Even with their items in tow, the phantom theives are as silent as their name permits them to be. Meeting up, one by one along the way, they silently continue until all eight of them arive at the city's diet building. Its almost dawn.

It doesn't take them too long to locate a blind spot in the security camera's range and its along the long side of the building nearest to the east. They begin.

Ryuji takes the homemade shrine in his arms, nailed together in his mothers garage, and sets it against the cold stone of the den of lions.

Yusuke comes up and takes the work from his bag. Two small portrait pieces of canvas. One contains a charcoal sketch of His face. An easygoing smile spread permanently on a face framed by lengthy hair. The other, smaller canvas is a ink painting of a black crow with russet eyes. He sets the sketch in the middle of the top shelf and puts the crow to the left of it. He steps back.

Morgana pads forward, a heavy garment in his mouth he silently hands it to Makoto who folds it neatly and sets it in front of the shrine. Morgana puts a paw on the brown coat and pushes it silently forward. He steps back and sits down.

Haru comes up next, brown paper wrapping crinkling in her arms. From the wax paper, she takes a armful of beautiful red flowers, grown from her own personal garden. She inhales their earthy scent once more before placing them on top of the coat gentle as a nun.

Futaba after a moments hesitation meekly steps forward, bringing out a box from behind her back. Its black and green with faded stickers of anime and video game characters and motifs on it. She opens it as Makoto steps forward and pulls out a small pile of photos from her pocket. Shee runs her fingers over the faces of Goro and herself and her sister. Theres one of her and him both studying at lunch, one of him and her sister walking down the road smiling at some shared joke, of her again caught off guard by a paparazzi camera flash and him grinning and ready, always ready for the camera. She silently places them in the box and Futaba closes it tearfully, before placing it on the bottom shelf.

Ann lifts her head and takes a card of pink stationary from her bag. Scribbled in the margins are words like "Remembrance" "Friendship" redemption" and "loss" in japanese. In the center, written in in her curling font, a proverb in english. She somberly places it to the right of the sketch before reaching into her bag for the candles. One by one she places them around the makeshift shrine and one by one she gives them light. She steps away.

There is a heavy silence as Akira steps forward. He pauses, breathes, and removes two items from his jacket. He places the first on the bottom shelf next to the black and green box. A green bag of coffee beans from Leblanc. The kind Sojiro said he always asked for. The kind he said reminded him of a home he never had. The next is a black knife. Akira's first with which he slew his first shadow. He props the kogatana against the bottom shelf wall and pauses before turning to Futaba.

She wordlessly takes out a single, recently framed photo. Akira takes it and holds it like its the most precious treasure he's ever held. Akira himself is holding the camera. Draped on his shoulders is Ryuji and to his side is Ann and everyone else in their group. At the very back is Akechi. He's smiling at the camera. Its the only photo of all of them together. Silent as the grave, he places it on top of the shrine.

They stand together. As one, they bow their heads and mourn. 

They mourn for a boy who had everything taken from him. 

They mourn for the things he was forced to do and for how coldly the world had turned against him. The boy left to a cruel fate. 

They dream for what he might've been if only he found the love they found with each other. The love that he had discovered too late.

They mourned for a boy who had no one else left to love him. 

They weep for the tragedy of it all and pray that he's found peace, wherever he is now. That he feels no more pain or hate. 

The dawn breaks and light spills over the city. It sets alight the eight of them and still they bow, for its what he deserved. A strange sort of tranquility sets over the scene. A stillness. A silent faith and feverant hope.

 

 

Later that morning, when the guards make their rounds, the scene is desolate and undistrubed, as though no one was ever there.


End file.
